Façade
by vine
Summary: Their masks betrayed what side they were on, even if they didn't begin to hint at the faces underneath. AU.


**Some strange thing I dreamed up, and wrote before I was fully awake. Skimmed over, but not really proof-read. I apologize for any mistakes I may have missed.**

**Disclaimer: And of course, none of this is my own.**

* * *

He froze, hardly daring to breath as his opponent's weapon came to rest an inch from his throat. The fan was a deception- he knew its points were wickedly sharp. Every stinging cut, every drop of his spilt blood hummed with that knowledge.

"Shit."

His opponent was not without wounds. The strange uniform was just as dirty and bloody as his, and both chests were heaving.

But the winner was now made clear. Sokka could see the light of victory in his killer's eyes, glimmering through the slits in his mask.

He closed his eyes, and hoped that his sister was nowhere nearby. He didn't want her to have to see this. Though even if she were close, she wouldn't recognize him. No, the mask obscuring his face would see to that.

His ears, straining for anything unusual in the patterns of the battle raging around him, caught the slightest sound of a whistle. Under his cold wolf mask, he allowed a smirk.

Thwack!

The warrior in front of him stumbled, and with a comforting feeling of familiarity, the boomerang was back in his hand once more.

"What you get for underestimating me," he spat out, and brought up his sword, ready to bring it slashing down across the enemy's exposed back.

He felt the heat before he even registered the explosion. Something searing and sudden ripped across his back, and he was screaming. Then something sharp pierced his leg, and he crumpled, falling into a heap next to the smoldering warrior as he lost consciousness.

* * *

Pain was the first thing to enter his mind. More pain then there should be. Pain across his back, pain eating into his leg...

Pain meant he was alive.

Cracking one eye open, he tried to figure out how that was possible. The last thing he remembered was fire-

That meant that the North Regiment had fallen. They were the ones who were supposed to tie up the Fire Army, while the South Regiment struck at the Earth Army's weakest point.

It wasn't supposed to turn the way it did.

Sokka spared a moment's thought to his friends, in both the North and South. And his sister. She had to be alive. She was too good to die.

He pretended he believed himself, and opened his eyes completely.

He was in a cell, judging by the bars that cut through the moonlight laying across his face. As his eyes adjusted to the dark, he could see shadows of other cells, but no movement. They were all empty.

There was a strange weight across his face. His heart quickened. Why would the Fire Nation- if that was who had captured him- leave his mask on?

Struggling, he winced as pain shot up his burnt back, and a sharper pain twisted in his leg. His wrists were chained to the wall above his head. Not even enough slack for him to get to his feet. Though he doubted his legs would be able to support him anyway.

There was moment beside him, and he froze. Letting his eyes flicker to the side, he let out a sharp gasp.

The crumbled figure was clad in the same Fire Nation prisoner garb as he was, but this was no Water Tribe soldier. No. It looked as if someone was having a good laugh. Because he could swear it was the same masked Earth Kingdom soldier he had been fighting right before the fire had taken them both down.

Sokka stopped struggling against his chains, and forced his mind to think. Now, why were they still alive? And in the same cell? With their masks still on...

His stomach clenched, and he let his head flop onto his chest. Shit. Did they know who he was? If so, he was in deep trouble. They'd want information. Not that he'd give it to them, but-

Movement to his left. A muttered curse. Seemed like his cellmate had woken up.

"What the..." There was some rustling, and more curses. The soldier's voice was higher than Sokka had expected. Young. The boy couldn't be much older than he was. Sokka made a face behind his mask. Almost getting beat by this kid did not help his rather horrible mood.

"What are you doing here?" It was stated less like a question, and more like an accusation. Sokka turned to him, trying to find the boy's eyes underneath the mask's deep sockets. The light in their cage was dingy, and hardly even touched the shadows that obscured the only features left uncovered by the mask. It made him nervous, even though the other prisoner was chained the same way as he.

"I don't know." The other boy gave a doubtful scoff, but Sokka didn't care. He had more important things to dwell on, and if the boy wanted to waste his time thinking about Sokka's motive, then whatever. No harm done to him.

With the clanking of metal, the Earth boy kicked out clumsily, twisting his neck until it looked tight enough to pop. "And where are the others?"

"The others?" Damn curiosity. Sokka couldn't deny it. "What are you talking-"

"The other prisoners! We can't be the only ones here!"

Sokka shrugged. "There's no one else." Maybe this boy was even younger than he first thought. His voice cracked as it stretched.

Collapsing against the wall, the prisoner's head swung towards him. For a moment, they glared at each other through the holes of their masks. Sokka found it was he who had to first look away.

"You're the kid with the boomerang, aren't you?"

A nod from Sokka.

The boy laughed, but there was no real humor in the motion. "Thought so. You should have killed me."

Neither of them said anything for a long, long time.

* * *

"What do you think they want?"

There was no telling how long they had been imprisoned, but Sokka figured that they had been awake for at least a few hours. Neither one of them had spoken since the Earth boy had woken up, until now.

"Information, probably." Sokka sneaked a look at the boy. He didn't look very important. But then, neither did Sokka. Looks could be so very misleading.

This prospect looked like it boded as well for the Earth boy as it did for Sokka. He squirmed, and Sokka could see a thin line of blood escape from where the manacles bit into his wrists, before trickling down his arm.

* * *

Though there was no windows in their small cell, Sokka guessed that it had been almost a full day since he had regained consciousness. His throat was as dry as any desert in the Earth Kingdom, and the growling of his stomach was the only noise he could hear.

There had been no sound of another human being. Not once. For all intents and purposes, they were the only two left alive in the world.

"What's your name?"

Sokka's head shot up off its position on his chest. "What? Why?"

There was something that could have passed for a shrug from the boy across him. "I keep thinking of you as Annoying Water Bitch, but it seems to have lost its charm."

Sokka growled at the nickname, but didn't answer. As much as the evidence seemed to point out otherwise, there was no knowing who might be listening.

* * *

"No one's coming for us, are they?"

It was dark. Night.

"No." (I doubt it)

A pause.

"So we're dying here."

"Yes." (I wish I could admit otherwise)

"Good."

Another surprising answer from the one that was supposed to be his enemy. In the dark, with not even enough moonlight to see the other soldier's mask (so different from his own), it was hard to think of him as such.

In the dark, they were just two sad voices, far away from home, and much too young for death.

* * *

"Why us?" His turn for a question.

"Why not?" Was the only answer he was left with.

* * *

"I'm glad they stuck us both in here."

"Oh yeah?" Another surprise.

"Yeah. It's nice to finally know what this whole war was about."

"And what's that?"

"Nothing. Shit and rumors, and old men arguing."

Sokka didn't answer for a few moments, before he left out a soft chuckle.

"At least we'll never turn into them."

They shared their last laughs together, one last jib at the men who had put them there.

* * *

"If you tell me your name, I'll tell you mine."

The guards had finally showed up. Tall, faceless Fire Nation men, one of whom was quick to deliver a hard kick to Sokka's ribs. For staring.

The other guard had gone straight to his cellmate. Unceremoniously, he unlocked the shackles, and yanked the trembling warrior to his feet.

"Walk," he grunted, and gave the boy a good whack to his spine with his heavy baton for encouragement. It wasn't as if the boy could do anything else. They hadn't had food or water for almost three days, as far as Sokka could judge. They're conversations were short, and around them they had mostly dozed, or spent their time sweating out the pain of their injuries in fevered silence.

Sokka wasn't surprised to hear the boy's voice now.

The boy was almost out of the cell, a guard gripping tight at each arm. His face was turned back towards Sokka, and he thought he could almost glimpse one dirty cheekbone between mask and blood-stained hair.

"What do you say, water brat?"

He nodded. "It's Sokka."

The guards snickered, and Sokka's stomach twisted. But he didn't regret it. They had to have already known, or would find out as soon as he took off his mask. He looked too much like his father.

There was a sigh, like a final release. The warrior spoke, no longer bothering to change her voice's pitch. "Suki." She sounded so tired. He knew how she felt. He was too exhausted to even feel surprised.

Sokka watched her as she was led down the hall, before letting his head fall back against the hard stone wall.

He wondered how long it would be until they were back for him. Eyelids fluttering closed, he saw green and blue silk fluttering in his mind's eye. Hopefully, after that, they would let him sleep. So very tired.

* * *

**I think that this was intended to be a one-shot, but I'm starting to get a feeling for a plot... If it is accepted all right, I may continue. Hope you enjoyed!**


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